Sick as a Mud Monkey
by monkeygirl77
Summary: Lucifer manages to catch the most human sicknesses of all, the flu. And Chuck feels for his son, he really does. Meanwhile, Sam tries his hand at a bit of family counseling as he 'helps' God take care of his sick son. Nah, God's got this, a bajillion kids later, he is more then capable of taking care of one sickly child. And Lucifer proves to be a literal child when he wants to be.


It was kind of off putting to hear an angel, an archangel of all beings, coughing and hacking like a sick child.

Lucifer grumbled under his breath, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, his complexion was paler then it usually was, his hair experiences an extreme case of bedhead.

Dean had up and left the room altogether grumbling about annoyances and such and not wanting to do research in the same room as a useless toad sitting on their couch freeloading his way through their kitchen. Sam didn't seemingly care one way or another he just ignored it, having had the experience of any younger brother to ignore outside noises.

Chuck was in the kitchen doing something, what it was exactly was beyond him, but there had been the banging of pans a little while ago.

Lucifer sniffled, shivering as his body was overcome with a fit of coughs and he grimaced as his throat burned in reaction to his hacking fit. He buried his face back inside his blanket moaning about stupid human germs.

Sam snorted, peering over at the tuft of blonde hair that wasn't being covered by the blanket, finding it somewhat entertaining. How he had made _him_ suffer and now he was the one suffering. Karma really was a bitch. He almost felt bad for the fallen angel, almost. Turning back to his laptop even he had to grimace at the painful coughing that filled the silence in the room once more. He really had it bad.

He looked up again when the door separating the bunker's kitchen to the living room and Chuck came walking in carefully, a cup of something steaming in one hand and a bowl of something else in the other hand. He watched him cross the room careful not to spill anything on the carpet heading in Lucifer's direction. The Morningstar looked up at his Father as he approached and groaned again.

His reaction was either not heard or ignored, which one it actually was Sam did not know.

But Chuck was God so he had no doubt that he had indeed heard it and had indeed chosen to ignore it.

He set the bowl on the table in front of him and sat on the edge of the table in front of his son, holding the mug out towards him. Lucifer eyeballed it with a scrutinizing gaze, before turning a sickly glare on his father.

"I don't need your help"

His statement was interrupted by another coughing fit and a grimace as it made his throat ache, Chuck waited patiently for him to get a hold of himself before holding the steaming cup out once more.

"Do you want to give that another thought Son?"

Lucifer said nothing but maintained a hateful glare towards his dad.

"It'll help your throat and your stomach, just give it a try, a single sip"

He wiped at his nose with his blanket, Sam grimaced, it was his blanket. He uncovered one of his hands to shakily reach for it, taking the mug in one hand and humming at the warm sensation that filled him at the mere touch. He pulled the mug up to his mouth and took a small sip, rolling his eyes in contentment as the warm tea soothed his aching throat.

Chuck smiled at him gently, reaching out to rub his hand through his son's hair, but paused when he turned to look up at him.

"You need to rest now, sleep it off"

He shoved the mug back out at his dad, Chuck rushing to catch it before it spilled out on him.

"You..Don't get to...Pick and choose...When you act like a dad...That's not..How it works!"

Chuck nodded, having seemingly expected that, and set the mug back on the table next to him. He seemingly wasn't being discouraged though. His Son may hate him but he was still his son, despite everything he was still his son. Nodding his head slowly he turned and reached for the bowl of soup he had made. Picking up the bowl he held the spoon out towards his sickly son.

Lucifer eyeballed it, turning to glare back up at his father, "I'm not a child, I can feed myself, and I'm _not_ hungry"

There was a soft chuckle, "Of course your not, but your weak right now, and the only way you'll get any stronger is if you eat something"

"Or you could just heal me _Daddy_ "

Chuck sighed, "You know I can't do that Son"

"You would if it were _Michael_ "

Chuck turned a stern glare in his direction.

"You want me to stop treating you like a child, then you say things such as that, you know I would not do that for Michael, nor any of your brothers, what is it I am always telling you?"

Lucifer ducked down at being scolded, and in front of Sam of all people, why did his dad want to embarrass him so much.

"Lucifer"

"That if we are strong enough to get into the mess that we are strong enough to wait it out"

"Exactly"

"Sometimes I really really hate you"

Chuck nodded again, he probably deserved that too. Lucifer eyed the spoon though his stomach grumbling despite his protests and he found himself leaning forward and taking a bite anyway, looking at his Father when he emptied the spoon silently telling him to fill it again. His dad smiled at him, dipping the spoon back in for more soup and holding it out for his son to take.

He ate about six spoonfuls of soup before pushing the bowl away and struggling to untangle himself from his blanket in his rush to get to the bathroom. Chuck pulled the blanket free and watched as his on struggled towards the bathroom. He ran a hand through his hair as the retching sound filled the room with its painful sounds.

"I don't know why I even do this Sam, he hates me"

"Well what did you expect? You did lock him in a cage for your wrongdoing. He needs you though, he'd never admit it, but he needs you now more then ever"

They were both interrupted this time, turning to look at the bathroom as the voice reverberated out from inside. It was pitiful and rough, but soft at the same moment.

"Daaaaad"

Sam smirked on cue, Chuck raised an eye brow, "Yes Son?"

Silence.

"I need you"

He was up from his spot in the next breath, making his way across the room and down the hall. He crested the doorway just in time to see his child bending back over the toilet and puke up what little substance he had in his stomach. He whined out in misery, lifting his hand up slowly, Chuck moved forward taking his hand in his grasp and kneeling down next to him.

Rubbing at his back gently as he as overcome with another wave of harsh retching.

Lucifer grasped his hand hard, his throat burning worse then before, and his head beginning to pound at the harsh movements. Tears came to his eyes as he didn't show any signs of stopping.

"Its ok Son, let it out, your ok, that's it"

He probably shouldn't have cared as much as he had, but he was happy his dad was here. Dad always knew how to make them feel better when they got sick. Oh man, he hadn't gotten it this bad in how long? He wondered if his dad even still knew what to do at this point, even cared enough. Chuck, meanwhile had already fallen into that mode.

"We'll draw you a warm shower and get you all cleaned up, that'll help feel better, and get you some new clothes to wear something much more comfy for you. Make you some more tea for your throat and some ginger for your tummy and get you some crackers to munch on as well as a new blanket, something better, one of mine would be appropriate"

Lucifer could do nothing but nod, dizzy after such an episode and clutched at his fathers hand as he sat back. Chuck followed him back, steadying him when he struggled. He got a glass of water from only he knew where and offered it over. Instructing his sickly child to take soft sips as he pressed it to his lips. Lucifer obliged, the cool water soothing for his burning throat.

He didn't move much after that, either drained or exhausted, when his dad slowly gently pulled his flannel off and reached for his socks.

"Arms up child"

He raised his arms sluggishly as his dad pulled his shirt off. Chuck stared at he scars that littered his sons chest and back. Brilliant imprints of wings splayed across his shoulder blades, glistening like stained glass in the dull bathroom light. Tracing some of the large ones with a finger.

"Oh Luci...What has happened to you?"

He squeezed his hand in comfort as he moved forward slightly to turn on the shower, the bathroom filling with steam in mere moments. He knelt down in front of his son once more, taking his face in both hands softly, forcing him to make eye contact.

"I'm going to go and get some things for you, tea and such, take a shower and get yourself cleaned up and if you need _anything_ I want you to call, alright?"

He nodded, as much as he could in his fathers hold, "But I don't have any other clothes"

A mere look at the counter from his father and what appeared to be silk pajamas appeared. He closed his eyes when his dad leaned forward pressing his lips to his temple. A warmth he hadn't felt in so long filled him and had his wings been visible they would have fluttered in happiness.

"Daddy is only a call away son, a mere call"

He stood after this, turning and closing the door as he exited the bathroom. Lucifer sat on the floor for a long moment, simply allowing himself this moment. His Father hadn't actually been _Fatherly_ in as long as he could remember. It had been way before his Fall. He stood a moment later, stripping his pants and under garments off and stepping into the warm water.

It felt amazing, trickling down his back, warm and such, soothing the aching muscles and shivers. He stood for the longest time under the water simply allowing it to fall over him gently, his hair soaking in the next moment, dripping down his face when he looked up.

The steam cleared his nose enough.

After what seemed like an eternity and a half he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. Dried himself with a soft towel that had no doubt appeared at the same time his new clothes did, sniffling once more as his nose ran. He reached for the soft fabric and pulled the shirt over his head and the pants over his legs.

He opened the bathroom door and immediately squinted his eyes. The bright flood lights of the bunker had been turned off during his long long shower. There was a soft glow from the living room getting somewhat brighter with every step he made towards it. Sam was still seated at the table on his computer, not having moved in the slightest.

On the couch was another blanket, one he recognized from his Father's personal rooms upstairs and he hadn't seen since he was a small fledgling and it had been only the three of them (him, Michael, and Dad) and he'd go running to his dad's room after having a bad dream and his dad would catch him up having heard him coming from his adjoining study and wrap him in it and pull him in his lap.

The television was flickering a movie across the screen. A plate of assorted crackers and a large mug of steaming tea sat on the table between the television and couch.

Gentle hands clasped over his shoulders and he was lead to the couch, that achingly familiar voice ringing in his ear.

"Come on little one, lay back down, you need rest"

He 'let' himself be pushed towards the couch. Sat down on the soft cushions and the blanket be tucked around him. He allowed all of these things to happen, don't ever think otherwise.

There was a dip in the couch next to him and he turned, coming face to face with the dreaded cup filled with that dreaded liquid he was sure that him and Michael had disposed of time and time again; he made a face. A warm chuckle filled his ears.

"Son, if you thought that I only had one bottle of this then you are sadly mistaken, you and your brothers detested it horridly, I always have a spare to my spare, now come on, drink it up."

"No"

"Luci."

"Its nasty! No"

"It'll make you feel better"

"Still, no!"

"Lucifer Morningstar! Drink the medicine!"

"No, you can't make me!"

Sam snorted silently, laughing to himself at the entire thing. Lucifer had his lips pursed together, cross-eyed staring down at the dreaded cup and Chuck was giving him the same stern look he remembered Dean giving him as a small child.

Lucifer was a literal child when he wanted to be.

"Oh really?", There was that voice that usually meant he had more then one way of getting him to do as he was told, and seeing as Lucifer's dad was God he figured that his means were endless. A hand snuck up under the blanket, fingers latching onto the sickly angels knee cap, moving in a specific rhythm. Sam raised an eyebrow at the completely unexpected action; he'd clearly been expecting something much more painful and to which Chuck rolled his eyes.

Honestly.

He smiled in victory as his son broke into a fit of giggles (mentally storing this little piece of information away for later use) and Lucifer opened his mouth to beg him to stop and he shoved the cup forward, spilling the liquid into his mouth forcibly. Lucifer choked a moment, glaring at his father and swallowing the nasty stuff down in one gulp, making a face of disgust.

Chuck smiled, "There, now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I really hate you sometimes"

"I know you do"

Chuck settled down into the couch in the next moment, turning his attention to the movie playing. Lucifer watched him for a moment, Sam watching him from over his laptop as he slowly leaned back, scooting softly closer to his dad. Never looking over when he raised an arm and draped it over his son's shoulders softly, pulling him into his side.

Dean was the first one awake that next morning, or so he thought, frowning when Sam wasn't in his bed. He stormed out into the main area, the living room of the bunker, and frowned even more when Sam smiled at him from the table, a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. He made to comment on scaring him like that but his brother held a finger to his lips and pointed across the way.

The older hunter followed his brothers finger, and froze at what he spotted.

Chuck was stretched out on the couch, one arm hanging lazily over the side, the back of his hand resting peacefully on the floor. What at first appearances looked like a mound of blanket, upon closer looks actually had a hand clutching at God's shirt; Lucifer was smooshed in between the couch and his Dad sound asleep. Chuck's other arm was draped over his back, holding him practically on top of him, pressing him to his chest.

It was cute.

Sam smiled at him when he returned his gaze and promptly rolled his eyes.

"Do you think I'd get smited if I took a picture of them?"

Probably. By Both. Who knows, God might bring him back so his son could do it all by himself too.

It was still something he was willing to risk though.

* * *

 **Just gonna..Leave this here...Papa Chuck taking care of sick Luci! SO CUTE!**


End file.
